


light and wild and true (times ten)

by sweetiejelly



Category: As the World Turns
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-14
Updated: 2015-06-14
Packaged: 2018-04-04 09:23:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,461
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4132272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sweetiejelly/pseuds/sweetiejelly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They wait and wait and wait. Then they go, go, go.</p>
            </blockquote>





	light and wild and true (times ten)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ladysonsie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladysonsie/gifts).



> Written for Steph's birthday today. Happy, happy birthday, lovely! <3 Going back to our original shared love here. I know we probably didn't need yet anther version of their first time. But I know you like the canon them and a bit of wet and a bit of smut. So there's that. p.s. Noah's not the bottom here, sorry, but I figure they're flexible and totally gonna try it someday soon, hee. Anyway, sorry for the shortness of this, but I hope it's okay. And most of all, I wish you the best birthday weekend and year ahead. ♥
> 
> (Cross-posted to [thehayloft@LJ](http://thehayloft.livejournal.com/33656.html).)

_Wait._

Noah hesitates. Years of lectures on the exact way to dress, how to address his betters, how to suppress being himself don't just wash away at will. His lips hover above Luke's as his mind hovers over the Colonel, his constant disapproval. 

_Wait._

Luke is usually rash. It's gotten him into trouble more than once (times ten). He's not drunk right now but he feels it, tilts his head back a little more so he can look at Noah from this angle, commit it to memory. 

Noah looks serious, the end of a big ol' tangled yarn of thoughts dangling between his brows. But even frowning, his eyes look warm, warm the way they get looking at Luke, pressing him even closer by the waist. 

Luke takes a moment to smile, make those eyes go even warmer, so warm the frown dissolves. 

_Wait._

The doorbell rings. Of course it does. It wouldn't be their lives if they don't get interrupted three times a day. On their way to a touch. On their way to a kiss. On their way to being two regular guys in love. 

_Go._

Noah is grateful for locks. So grateful. And for stars. Because they come out at night when his imagination runs wild (wilder), when his hands roam freer, when his thoughts they turn to the pretty lips on Luke, how they feel on his lips, how they feel on his cheeks, on his neck. How they might feel any-anywhere. 

_Go._

Luke can shower for a very long time, rival Faith even for the amount of time he spends in the restroom. But he has pretty good memory and perfect image retention. He still remembers Noah in that hotel room that time Noah's towel stripteased down his legs. 

He recalls Noah's lower back from the first time they went swimming, the wet of them curving strong and touchable into the swim trunks he lent him. 

Then there are Noah's eyes that never lie and that strong nose angling towards him as if to say _you, you, you, I pick you!_

The sly way he smiles at Luke that makes him hot under the collars, hot everywhere. 

Luke decides then. They're doing this when they get around to doing this. They're spending some time right here in the shower, getting wetter than wet. 

_Go._

Luke's lips on his neck feels somehow _better_ this time, like they're personally plucking every last bit of his thoughts until all that's left are the wild, true ones. 

Noah has seen a lot of Luke but never all (till now). Luke likes to go swimming, likes to come out of the shower steam-wrapped and with his towel hanging low. Luke is all tease, from his dimples to his knees. 

Noah slips his hands higher. Higher than the knees. 

_Don't stop._

Luke doesn't even care that they're not in the shower. God, Noah's hands. He's played with those fingers so many times, held them. Been held. But he never knew they were magical. And they are. Oh god, they are. 

Luke's babbling. He does that. Says things he doesn't mean and things he definitely does. Like _Noah, please_. 

And Noah pleases him, with the way he survives, braves his life. With the way his lips add to the hot grips of his hands and holy God. Luke doesn't think he will survive this. 

_Stop._

Noah is disoriented for a moment. Luke smells so good, tastes so good. But Luke wants to stop. Noah stops. Freezes really. And starts to back off. 

_Come back._

Luke is talking through his fingers which he has splayed over his face. Which is all pink and flushed and lovely. And he says it's too good. And he's embarrassed and Noah relaxes, laughs. Kisses him sweet high on his hips, rounds sweet on his shoulder and sweeter still on his collarbones, sweetest on his cheek, his lips. I love you, Luke, he says. We can be embarrassed together. 

Luke pounces on him on that. He can work with that. He has hands. He has - he has lips. 

Noah makes the best choked off noises. Noises that he stops choking off finally when he completely lets go. Luke feels it in the tense of Noah's thighs wrapped around him, feels it in the flex of Noah's hands in his hair. 

Noah rolls them over, licks his hand, and aligns them perfectly, eyes to eyes and dick to dick, to be totally quickly embarrassed together. 

Only, not embarrassed. They kiss and then they break their kiss to gasp. Totally not embarrassed together, just good, just perfect. 

It's easier after that. Kissing is easy. Noah thinks he can kiss Luke forever, just cradle the back of his head and kiss him, kiss him, kiss him. 

They get to more. Luke has been prepared for a while. The lube is some high grade stuff. Of course. Noah has to tease him about it. But Luke just shoves his ass up higher off the bed and well, Noah can't argue with that. Bends down impulsively to play bite at a cheek. 

Then back to kissing. And licking. Luke seems to really embrace the licking. 

_Don't you dare stop._

Bossy. Of course Luke would be. Noah smiles to himself and licks another ring around, licks around his ring finger and thumb and forefinger and then another lap. Lap, lap, lap. 

Luke thinks he might be dying. It's intense. It's weird and good and so _weird good_. He has never had another person's fingers - never mind lips - there. It makes him feel completely naked and connected and all kinds of clichés. But he supposes they're clichés because they're true. 

Noah hits the jackpot. It makes all the weird worth it ten times over. There! Luke can be good with directions. Can be excellent. Right there! Oh god. 

Noah follows the way Noah does. Follows Luke with his eyes when he thinks no one's looking. (And now even when someone is looking.) Follows him with his heart. 

Noah doesn't think there's anything better than being trusted like this. Luke is split on his fingers and lube and spit, looking gorgeous. From his lips fall words that get progressively shorter, dirtier, needier. Please the fuck now. 

He can the fuck now. Yes. His brain doesn't string the words quite right, never really could the way Luke does. Anyway, Luke. Luke wanting him. It's everything. Noah rolls on the condom and squeezes more lube from the fancy tube. Don't want to hurt you. 

You won't. C'mon. Luke looks half wild, all his. 

Noah shuffles forward. Turns Luke's head to kiss him one more time. Plunges. Slowly. Carefully. Into the worst (best) torture. He can feel Luke's every inhale, exhale, every dip of head, every moan. Sex isn't new to Noah but sex he wants is new. Sex with someone he loves is new. 

Sex with Luke is not a mission. It's not a test he has to pass. It's just finding new highs after new highs. It's Luke reaching back for his thighs to urge him on. It's Noah tangling his fingers with Luke's and squeezing when the rhythm of it all - go go go - gets too much, too good, gets all the way down to his toes. 

Noah kisses every bit of skin he can reach. Arms. Back. Shoulder blades. Luke arches backward and flops his head forward. Luke's in as much control of his body as Noah right now. Noah could feel them both letting go, max-maxing out their pleasures. 

They come, not quite together but close enough, Noah's hand on Luke's cock and Luke's face smooshed into a pillow, their shudders spread all over the sheets. 

After, Luke goes quiet. Luke's never quiet. Noah runs a hand down Luke's cheek. Is- are you okay? 

Are you kidding? I’m fantastic. A little sleepy. Luke nuzzles against his hand. 

Noah chuckles and tucks his chin into Luke's neck. They nap. Briefly. Then Luke is tugging him out of bed. Shower, he says. Noah tugs him back for a kiss. Okay. Hey, Luke, um, next time, can I-? 

Luke lifts an eyebrow, reading him perfectly. Bottom? 

Yeah. Noah lifts his chin, defiant. He's not embarrassed. He won't be embarrassed. Not with Luke. Not ever. 

Okay, Luke agrees easily. But seriously, Noah, you have to come to the shower with me _right now_. You have no idea how many fantasies I've had about you in there. 

Noah tilts his head and looks through the door at the glass paneling that stretches ceiling to floor. Everything's so much clearer now, no longer obscured under the cover of night, all dark and secret. 

Light. His heart is light. 

Oh, I have _some idea_ , he smirks. 

Then he goes, goes after Luke. 


End file.
